


The True Spirit of War

by SarcasticSunshine



Series: Short Stories [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Agamemnon is a bastard and we hate him in this household, Angst, Based off the story of Iphigenia and that one tumblr post, Character Death, Gods, Gods are Cruel, Humans have hubris, I made a god, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Iphigenia is sad, Mythology - Freeform, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The General is a bit of an Idiot, There is mentions of human sacrifice, and angry, but so are People, i guess, i've been told this is "Raw", this is not the real story of Iphigenia, what i know of the actual story in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29767797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSunshine/pseuds/SarcasticSunshine
Summary: He called upon a god of war, and a god of war he got.
Series: Short Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187666
Kudos: 2





	The True Spirit of War

The General had expected many things when he had tried to summon the god of war, but it definitely wasn’t a small, dirty child with rather large wings. Of course, the General reasoned to himself, the gods have their own reasons for disguising themselves and it was no place for mortals to go questioning the gods.

“Lord Ares?” the Priest called out questioningly, taking one step closer to the altar. “The God of War?” There was a mutter, too quiet to make out, and then a shifting of posture - the god hunching in on themselves slightly, dark hands coming up to grip even darker hair.

“Ares is the God of Slaughter,” the child-god said again, this time louder. “Not war.”

“Perhaps Athena then,” the General said before the Priest could open his mouth. “Goddess of Wisdom and Tactics?”

“Tactics,” the child-god said, curling into themselves even further. “Are not war, General.”

The General and the Priest looked at each other askance, both lost at sea without a harbor in sight. They had called upon a god of war, so why hadn’t a god of war shown?

“Then who,” the Priest asked, hands coming up to rest upon the medallion around his neck. “Are you, gracious god?” There was silence, long and deafening, then there was a whisper of feathers shifting against each other, and the child-god’s wings opened to reveal a girl who looked no more than fourteen, wearing yellow and red - wedding colours, the General noted absently -, and with skin closer to bone than to muscle.

“My name was Iphigenia,” the child-goddess began softly, arms linking loosely over her knees. “The daughter of Agamemnon - the Great King of Mycenae, the leader of the armies against Troy. When my father insulted Lady Artemis, she refused to send winds to blow his ships to enemy shores.”

The General felt like this story was familiar somehow, like a tangle against the back of his mind, and when he looked over to the Priest, the other man had begun to pale.

“I was taken to Aulis - for my wedding, I was told.” A sob broke off her words, and the General realized that was why she was wearing wedding colours. “I was four-,” a voice crack. “I was only fourteen.” The temple was silent but for the sounds of shuddering sobs and tears splashing against the marble floor, until it was suddenly quiet.

When the child-goddess looked up, the General made the mistake of looking into her eyes. They were eyes he’d seen on the battlefield a hundred ~~no, a thousand times~~ , in the women whose children he’d returned dead. The eyes of a survivor, a warrior.

“I am the true spirit of war, General,” the child-goddess said as she rose to her feet, wings creaking as they spread out. “I am the goddess of bloodshed, of sacrifice - the slaughter of innocents. I am invoked when men ravage, burn, and pillage. I am invoked when mothers cry out, when sons die, when daughters are stolen. I am there when children perish for the crimes of their elders.”

The child-goddess grew with each word, growing ten, twenty feet, brushing the outer edges of the temple.

“I hear it _all_ , General,” she hissed, wings twisting sharply behind her. The Priest fainted with terror and all the General could do was stand there in both awe and fear. “I have heard it all since the fall of Troy.”

The goddess loomed over the man, eyes ablaze with the tragedies of war.

_**“How dare you call upon my name.”** _

And then there was nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently, according to some stories, Agamemnon accidentally killed one of Artemis' deer during a hunt and Artemis got angry and refused to send gales to blow his ships to Troy. Agamemnon sacrificed his own daughter to appease the goddess. Of course, in some stories Iphigenia is a priestess of Artemis and choses to sacrifice herself for her father. That's all I really know, but what I DO know that is constant in the stories is that she's fourteen, Agamemnon's daughter, and that she is sacrificed in Aulis.


End file.
